


January 15

by Age or Wizardry (ageorwizardry)



Category: White Christmas (1954)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Immediately Post-Canon, Snowed In, Susan POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 21:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5471855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ageorwizardry/pseuds/Age%20or%20Wizardry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What second act could possibly follow matchmaking Bob Wallace and Betty Haynes, bringing the entire show and most of an Army division to Vermont on a mission of Christmas goodwill—oh, and making it snow?</p>
<p>Phil and Judy aim to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	January 15

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kariszma83](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kariszma83/gifts).



Once the snow finally came, it kept coming. What started as the perfect crowning event to the evening’s celebration had the whole place snowed in by the time Susan rose the next morning. Almost immediately, Emma dispatched her on a steady stream of errands: food, clean linens, firewood, messages; they all had to be attended to, and the snow hadn't yet been cleared between the main building and everyone's rooms.

"I know it's Christmas morning," Emma said before sending her off the first time, "and we could exchange presents _briefly_ if we do it now, but if you want to see your grandfather _ooh_ and _ahh_ over any of your presents for him, we'd better wait until tonight or even tomorrow, when things have calmed down a bit."

Emma was kept busy at the switchboard for hours while fathers who’d planned to try to get home on the earliest morning trains instead listened down the phone lines, catching glimpses of their children’s Christmas mornings from an unexpected distance. Emma squawked about the number of calls and strictly enforced time limits, but Susan more than once noticed Emma wearing a fond look as she watched a man gripping the phone and grinning widely as he listened to what his children had found in their stockings or under the Christmas tree that morning. Susan privately suspected these calls were actually Emma's favorite part of everything they had to manage that morning.

Susan's grandfather had assigned as many veterans as were staying in the main building of the lodge to start shoveling out towards the outbuildings first thing after a hearty breakfast. As they met up with others shoveling from the outbuildings he had to call a halt to coordinate everybody's efforts and make sure no snow was dumped where anybody else was trying to clear. Phil and Bob weren't spared from snow-shoveling duties, no matter how many telegrams from New York Susan ran out to them, and they had a healthy contingent of helpers from among the cast and crew of the show, too—whether they'd volunteered or had been conscripted in turn by Phil and Bob wasn't clear to Susan, but either way they met the snow with gusto.

As the lodge's inhabitants all collectively adjusted to being snowed in, both the calls to outside and the special requests from the rooms died down, and when the snow started up again after lunchtime, the general declared that there was no sense continuing to shovel out toward the road while it was still snowing. "After all, it is Christmas. You should all enjoy yourselves. I understand there will be sandwiches and a card game tournament in the snack bar, where I myself plan to be. But see that each of you keeps your assigned pathways between the buildings _clear_ , do you hear me? And no dumping snow in anyone else's path. These performers should be able to dance safely between the buildings in their heels if they want to!" he finished, with a familiar gruff twinkle in his eye.

"Hey, what if they can’t dance in heels to begin with!" yelled one of the volunteers from the show's crew.

"Doctor, will I be able to play piano?" another replied, laughing.

"Ohh, is someone asking us for an encore?" Phil chimed in, pulling off his gloves, and then pulling off another pair of gloves under that.

"Oh, I’m not encoring anything," Bob replied from next to him. "He who shoveleth the walks cannot be obliged to dance in heels over the walks in the same period of time, and so on and so forth. I am fairly sure it is in my contract. Besides," he continued mildly, "it would interfere with my plans: I have a date! With Betty, a warm room, sandwiches, and a deck of cards." As if called, Betty and Judy appeared, having changed after finishing their lunchtime floor show, and Bob tipped an imaginary hat as he left the room arm-in-arm with Betty.

Phil, Judy, Emma, and Susan were left, and Judy sat down on the arm of Phil's chair. Susan was all too happy to stay inside for a little longer—even just being outside for a while would be fine, she thought, but going back and forth between them all morning was making her nose run.

Emma gusted a dramatic sigh as she sank down into her own chair, declaring "I have been absolutely _run off my feet_ this morning, you have _no_ idea!"

Phil said, "Hey, the menfolk have been shoveling snow all morning! What are we, chopped liver?"

Emma replied, "You want to switch for the afternoon? I’ll put my snow shoveling up against your switchboard operating any day!"

Phil put up his hands in surrender. "I won't take that bet! Here's a bet I would take, though," he said, leaning in with a conspiratorial air. "How long do you think it'll be before Betty and Bob are engaged?"

Judy said, "I'd bet it happens before we leave the inn."

Phil shook his head. "Oh, that's not a date; all this snow, who knows exactly when that will be? It's not specific enough."

"Tell me the terms of the bet," Judy said, lifting her chin, "and not only will I give you a specific date, I'll make sure of it."

Emma snorted. "Well, at least give them half a minute to learn whether anybody snores before you go rushing them to the altar—there are things people need to know about _before_ they agree to get married."

Phil said, "Oh, I could tell you anything you want to know about Bob. Or tell Betty anything she wants to know. And he doesn’t, by the way. Snore, that is. A small blessing for whenever we take the show on the road. No matter how badly everything else goes—" He brought his hands together as if in prayer, lifted his gaze skyward, and continued, "—at least I know I’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep at the end of it. Well, a night’s sleep, anyway," he amended. "Some sleep. I’ll be able to _fall_ asleep, no problem, but no promises regarding duration are offered by fire alarms, drunken bellboys, or chorus girls with crisises." He mock-shuddered, as though a chill had passed over him.

Emma eyed him. "You can’t tell her _everything_ a woman would want to know about a potential husband. Or if you could, you had no business trying to set him up with a bride in the first place!"

"Well, maybe I—" Phil began heatedly, then trailed off: "…know better than to get into this argument with you. Judy, darling," he said, turning to face her, his voice breaking slightly, "change the subject for me, will you?"

"You keep planning for the wedding if you want to," she said thoughtfully. "I'm working on the honeymoon."

Phil slapped his knee. "Well, that is thinking ahead! And what slam-bang finish have you got cooked up for them, then? Let me guess, if you're betting they'll get married before they leave the inn, do you have them honeymooning here as well?"

"I only said they'd get _engaged_ before we left, not _married_ ," Judy pointed out. "Unless you want to make another bet? It's true you couldn't find a nicer, more pleasant spot for a honeymoon," she said with a nod to Emma, and Emma preened. "On the other hand, a change can be nice. Florida might be romantic, since that's where they met, but then the same thing applies. What a grand gesture it might be to go somewhere entirely new! Niagara Falls, or out west somewhere—the Grand Canyon!"

"You've never been to Niagara Falls?" Phil asked.

Emma had risen to return to the front desk, and now came back with a telegram. "Here, Susan," Emma said, "could you run this over to Mr. Wallace?"

"Yes, Emma," Susan said, collecting the telegram and putting on her coat again. Judy was saying to Phil, "Say, where would you say was a good place for a honeymoon?"

"Ahm, for Betty and Bob?"

"For Betty and Bob." Judy shrugged. "For anyone. For you?" she said with a smile.

Just as Susan left, she saw Phil lean back and sink down a little in the chair. "I—I guess that would depend on where the bride wanted to go, too."

When she arrived at Bob Wallace's cabin with the telegram, he invited her in. "Here, sit down a sec, take a load off in the warm before you go back out. I practically owe you a retainer for all the hoofing you've done on my account today. We've got some extra sodas. You want one?"

"Yes, Susan, do come in and join us," Betty said. Susan nodded and accepted a soda from Bob as she stepped in. "Of course," Betty said to Bob, "don't think this means I don't realize you're hoping the interruption will distract me from the fact that you're _losing_."

"I'm taking a strategic retreat," Bob replied.

"I'm winning," Betty said, smiling. "And I won't forget it."

"Do you like Niagara Falls?" Susan asked, head still filled with the conversation about possible honeymoon destinations and forgetting for a moment that Betty and Bob hadn't been part of it. "Oh, I mean, because your sister was talking about places for a honeymoon, and..."

"Oh, I suppose Judy's always wanted to go," Betty said, looking up from her cards, "but surely it's a bit soon to be planning a honeymoon! They only just stopped pretending to be engaged, they can't be engaged for real again already."

"I wouldn't put anything past those two," Bob said.

"No, they were talking about a honeymoon for you."

Bob laughed. "Well, like I just said! That's jumping the gun a bit. You've got to get hitched first before you can go on a honeymoon!"

"They weren't doing something silly like _betting_ on where we'd pick for a honeymoon, were they?" Betty asked.

"No," Susan said, and Betty returned to examining her cards. "The bet was going to be for when you got engaged."

"Oh, honestly, what is Judy thinking," said Betty, setting down her cards. "It's not like she can propose marriage to me _for_ you!" she said to Bob.

"Oh, they’re just thinking the same thing they've been thinking all along: their mission is getting us hitched. And they'll do anything to make it succeed! I appreciate you letting us know about this," he said to Susan. "It wouldn't surprise me if they develop some kind of scheme about it before too long, and this way we'll know to keep an eye out for any silliness!"

"Susan," Betty said, "I'd appreciate it if you'd let us know about any more... ideas along these lines you may hear Phil and Judy talking about. And," she said, her gaze shifting to Bob, "if... we ever give you a tip about a date,"—a secret smile passed between her and Bob—"you may want to place your own bet."


End file.
